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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722087">The Tolling on the Iron Bell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet'>chucks_prophet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Closure, Dean Gets Closure, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Heaven, Love Confessions, M/M, Requited Love, Reunions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:49:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>864</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"So you Extreme Home-Makeovered Heaven, huh?"</p><p>Cas smiles, but it doesn't come anywhere near his eyes. The last time Dean saw him, he was crying. His eyes look more like waiting pools now, rather than a tsunami threatening to consume them both. "That's not what's really on your mind, is it?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SPN Finale "Destiel is CANON" Collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Tolling on the Iron Bell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Huge s/o to my friend Aspen for helping craft the plot around this and Ruth for helping me write descriptors. :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun…”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span class="u">The Tolling on the Iron Bell</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The bar's packed today.</p><p>Pool cues clatter in favor of Ash's first and only hit into a pocket. Jo and Pamela groan before they snatch the half-empty beer bottle he wastes waving over the table like a red flag. Meanwhile at Table 2, Eileen's declaring war. Like a scene out of a western showdown, she and Sam flip their second card over in perfect unison. Sam scoffs. Eileen snickers before snatching his Five of Spades. Bobby and Rufus debate the art and ergonomics of dart-throwing while John hurdles a knife to create what'll be his fifth indentation into the wall. Perched at the other end of the counter Dean's sitting at are Mary and Ellen. Along with their drinks, they’re likely sharing embarrassing stories about their children when Mary waves to Dean.</p><p>Dean raises his beer before bringing it to his lips. It's pungent in smell and taste, but the tongue-tickling carbonation (a perk of being in Heaven) is a nice anesthetic to help wash it down.</p><p>Eventually, he turns his attention back to the man sitting across from him. "So you Extreme Home-Makeovered Heaven, huh?"</p><p>Cas smiles, but it doesn't come anywhere near his eyes. The last time Dean saw him, he was crying. His eyes look more like waiting pools now, rather than a tsunami threatening to consume them both. "That's not what's really on your mind, is it?"</p><p>Peeling tape off his bottle, Dean averts his gaze as a silence falls over the bar as the jukebox switches to "Time" by Pink Floyd. "Cas, I... I'm sorry. It's my fault you're... here."</p><p>"It was my choice, Dean," Cas reassures, "I made the deal, I summoned The Empty. The only thing that wasn't part of the plan—was never part of the plan—was falling in love with you."</p><p>"But I'm cursed," Dean bites back, snapping his head back to him. He searches for any indication in Cas's face that he's hurt and his anger only grows like a fire, always burning those he loves, when he finds none. "I got you killed," he emphasizes, "Hell, I got <em>myself</em> killed!”</p><p>"A wise man once told me he'd rather have me, cursed or not," Cas replies. "I'm at peace with my decision, Dean."</p><p>"Well damnit, Cas, I'm not!" Dean doesn't realize he’s banging his fist on the counter until he feels a splinter slip into his skin. The rules are different up here. Physical pain is non-existent. Emotional, not so much. It’s a painful reminder that he was once alive. "Did you ever think sacrificing yourself cost me my own happiness? Did you ever think that I—?" He pauses to catch his breath. He lowers his voice when Cas's lips unstiffen from his smile. "I needed all of it," he says, "the wanting, the having, the being, all of it. And goddamnit, I... I've been trying to say it too, but you won't let me."</p><p>"I'm right here, Dean."</p><p>"Don't you get it, man?" Dean scoffs with the shake of his head. "This whole open bar, open road thing, it's your Heaven—it's <em>your</em> idea of <em>my</em> Heaven."</p><p>Cas blinks a few times through furrowed brows. "I thought... I thought this is what you wanted."</p><p>Dean sighs as he slides his beer away from him. "I like it fine, man, but the one thing I want—the one thing I <em>really</em> want... you said it yourself, I can't have it. I can't physically say it here because you're afraid it'll disrupt your peace."</p><p>Cas grinds his jaw and shifts his own gaze.</p><p>"Castiel, please," Dean begs, "if you really love me, you'd let me have this."</p><p>Cas keeps his gaze averted. Dean can see him thinking, the way his eyes dart from side to side until he closes them completely. In that single blink, everyone disappears.</p><p>"What the hell happened?" Dean asks, swiveling his head back to Cas incredulously.</p><p>"I assume you wanted privacy."</p><p>Dean releases another breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Cas."</p><p>"That's my name, yes."</p><p>Dean rolls his eyes while biting back a smile. Cas even allows himself to laugh at his own joke.</p><p>"This is why I love you," Dean says, surprising himself at his own admission.</p><p>Between this and years of his own repression for self-preservation, he feels liberated from the shackles of his own prison. He hasn't realized just how heavy the ball attached to him has become over the years. He feels feather light—so in control, yet so out of control at the same time, like a car speeding down the highway on cruise control. He doesn't know how long this stretch of road extends for, but he knows it has a beautiful view. Cas's full-blown, pushing-the-rosy-apples-in-his-cheeks smile is one of them.</p><p>No more exists. No more detours.</p><p>Just him, Cas, and an open road with limitless possibility.</p>
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